


University Challenges

by Ptolemia



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, NOT AN AU: SPACE COLLEGE, altho actually it really doesn't need to be an au it could just be... space college, hi welcome to college au cliche city, i wish my uni was in space lmao i have an exam tomorrow, im gonna make that a tag actually, its like college... but in space........., population: me. literally just me. im screaming, uh... anyway........
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolemia/pseuds/Ptolemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Rhys and Vaughn are roomies, and the obvious occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so! This is gonna be three chapters, altho in practise chapter 1 and 3 are likely to be a lot shorter than chapter 2 so in a way it's more layed out like intro/main body of fic/coda. i mean who knows maybe i'll just roll chapter 2 and 3 into one if i get them both done at the same time... idk. I mostly just split it because ive finished the first bit but i'm too busy with exams rn to write anything else but i wanted to post SOMETHING because... its been a while.... and this ship needs some love u kno?? but hey, whatever. this is probably not all that interesting to you.
> 
> what IS interesting though is that 'M' rating right? right! it's. really not applicable this chapter. sorry. but it will be! have patience, young padawan.
> 
> the title is ofc a reference to university challenge which... has nothing to do with this fic at all beyond the spurious association of them both being at university and experiencing challenges in the form of really really wanting to bang each other. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> ALSO this was inspired by a tumblr prompt for university rhys/vaughn and CHUBBY VAUGHN <3333 (adorable) but.. i cant for the life of me recall who prompted me.......... it was. a long time ago. like. probably months. oops.

So it turns out that sharing a room with Vaughn might be the worst decision that Rhys has ever made.

 

And alright, maybe that's a bit of a simplistic way of putting it. Sharing a room with Vaughn is great, a lot of the time, because Rhys really likes Vaughn and he gets to see a lot of him. But the thing is that, well... Rhys _really_ likes Vaughn, and he has seen a _lot_ of him these past few months. Like, a hell of a lot, mostly because Vaughn has a marked tendency to amble around in just a towel (and on one memorable occasion when the air-con broke and it was “kind of too hot to bother, you don't mind, do you bro?”, _not_ in a towel) for several hours after showering. It's been kind of awesome and also kind of like horrible, horrible torture.

 

Yvette, as usual, is wildly unsympathetic.

“Rhys,” she says, glancing at him from over the top of her laptop, “I really don't know what to tell you. I mean I'd like to say that a little less thinking with the downstairs brain might do you good, but...”

“But what?”

“Well, I feel like the phrase 'downstairs brain' implies that you have an upstairs brain. Which - and I say this with affection - you don't.” She adjusts her glasses with a little smirk and then goes back to typing, cool as anything.

“Wow, I'm feeling the love, Yvette. I mean, really, you're laying on the sympathy.”

“Hey, its fine, you don't need a brain - you're pretty. You can marry some rich old guy or something. Have you considered a career in glamour modelling?”

“Yvette-”

She sighs. “Look, it's not that I don't care, really, it isn't. But you've been talking yourself in circles about this for the last, what, five months? Six? I don't have any more advice to give you. It really isn't that complicated, anyway. I mean, put it like this - you wanna date him?”

“I, uh... yeah.”

“Right. Great! So ask him out.”

“I can't just-”

“Yeah, Rhys, it's that or you forget about it.”

“You're no help.”

She shrugs. “Well, that's all I got. You want to go on a date with Vaughn? Ask Vaughn on a date. You want to make out with Vaughn for several hours instead of spending all your time complaining to your poor beleaguered friend Yvette? Try asking him, dumbass! You want Vaughn to stick things in your butt? You gotta-”

“Yvette!” splutters Rhys.

“What?”

“Don't- oh my god. Please don't word it like that.”

“Hey, just telling it like it is.”

“Just telling it like- no. No. The only 'just' you are is just awful. Because that's all you are. Awful. You hear me? The worst.”

She smirks. “I try.”

Rhys rolls his eyes.

 

Yvette returns to tapping away at her laptop, glancing occasionally down at her notes and occasionally clicking her tongue in approval or disapproval at some fact or figure. Rhys looks at his own notes for a moment, takes none of it in, and then sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. He winces – it's gone cold. Urgh. He tries focusing on his notes again, but gives up after he manages to read the same sentence three times and still has no idea what the hell any of the words mean.

“And you're totally sure he's not mentioned anything to you?” he says, folding his arms on top of his notepad and resting his chin down on the table gloomily.

“Hmm?”

“I mean, he's never said anything about liking me?”

“For the however-many hundredth time, no, Rhys, he's never spoken to me about it. Trust me, if he had, I'd tell you. No way would I be putting up with two pining idiots if I could put a stop to it. One is bad enough.” Her expression softens slightly. “Aw, look, I don't want to-” she sighs. “Believe it or not, I don't like getting snappy with you, but you moping about isn't doing you any good.”

“You don't like getting snappy with me?” says Rhys, raising an eyebrow. “You, Yvette, resident Queen of Snark?”

“Shut it, dumbass.”

“Aaaand just like that, you prove my point.”

Yvette ignores him.

 

After a while, Rhys accepts defeat on the revision front – to be fair, it's gone midnight – and packs his things away.

“I'm serious, no more moping,” says Yvette, sternly, as she hands him his coat, “You should do something about it. Just... make a plan, and stick to it.”

Rhys shrugs, and steps out into the night, heading back toward his room.

 

A plan. Fine, sure, Rhys has a plan. It goes something like this

 

  * Step one: Try really hard not to think of Vaughn naked at inappropriate moments

  * Step two: Inevitably fail step one

  * Step three: Awkward boner




 

 

... alright, so it's not a _good_ plan.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise, bitch, i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me
> 
> anyways its been a while since i wrote anything fr these two, but since i had most of this fic finished anyways i thought, well, might as well throw something together and not leave a half-assed wip lying around to torment yall. <3
> 
> also i bumped the rating up just 2 be on the safe side so uh... first E rated fic i guess?? *pops party popper*... nice...

By the time Rhys has got back to his dorm he's almost forgotten the whole conversation with Yvette – it's been a long day, and he's exhausted, and he's also ninety percent sure that he forgot to buy milk earlier, which sucks because it means that he's going to have to do an early-morning run to the store if he wants cereal and... urgh. Also, the lights are off in the corridor again, which presumably means that the power is out, which presumably means cold showers tomorrow. Sigh.

 

Of course, the second he cracks the door open and steps into the room, that all goes out the window again, because Vaughn- honestly, just _because Vaughn_ would be a good enough explanation. It would. Specifically, though, Vaughn has left the blind open and the moon, shining through the window (fuck you, moon, thinks Rhys, somewhat irrationally) is doing a really stellar job of shining straight onto Vaughn's bed and illuminating his naked back. He's facing the wall, pillows everywhere, covers a tangled mess around his legs, one foot sticking off the side of the bed; but in the moonlight the general mess and disarray looks almost artistic, like if you took a picture of it and put it up in a gallery it would fit right in with all the paintings. Rhys closes his eyes, very slowly, and exhales. It's just a back, he thinks, it's... a back... Of all the possible body parts which could conceivably be attractive, backs are like... super low on the list. Ok. Right. Good.

 

Then he opens his eyes again and- wow, no, ok, add 'Vaughn's back' to the list of stupid things which Rhys has popped a boner over. Great. Not at all weird. Not at all creepy! Good going, Rhys, good going. Urgh. He sighs, clicks the door shut and shuffles over to his bed as quietly as possible – and for once doesn't trip over anything and make a huge noise on the way, which is one (possibly the only) good thing about this whole situation. He unhooks his arm and tugs his pyjamas on and crawls into his bed with a sigh. Honestly, how hard can it be to just... not think about Vaughn, and how nice and soft and beautiful the curve of his back had looked in the moonlight, and how his hair's getting a bit too long and curls gently and tumbles into his eyes when he takes his glasses off, and how he'd laughed earlier today so hard he'd ended up slumped up against Rhys and giggling breathlessly and- and- ok, right, very hard. There's definitely a joke to be made about the phrase 'very hard', but Rhys is above that. Probably.

 

What he's not above, he decides (after about three seconds of very careful consideration not at all influenced by some very interesting friction when he shifts against his mattress), is rolling onto his front and just… just carefully… moving his hips slightly and…

 

After about thirty seconds he stops trying to pretend that this is just a case of trying to get comfortable in the lumpy uni-issued bed, and slips a hand under the waistband of his pyjamas – and then hastily shoves his face into the pillow to muffle what was about to be a quiet whimper. Ok. This is fine. As long as he stays quiet, and Vaughn stays asleep. Fine. Easy. Also, thinking about Vaughn right now is probably some kind of monstrous breakage of the Bro Code, but trying _not_ to think of Vaughn is really very hard. Again, Rhys resists the urge to mentally make a joke about the phrase ‘very hard’, which honestly in his opinion is a mark of his impeccable class and good taste. Or. Something. Rational thought is getting sort of complicated, at this point, but he has a vague idea about how much _better_ this would all be if it was Vaughn’s hand and not his, and what Vaughn’s weight would feel like pressed up against his back, and how Vaughn’s mouth would feel on the side of his neck, and-

 

Even stuffing his face into the pillow isn’t enough to stifle the desperate little whine Rhys makes at the thought. He freezes, pretty certain that he just heard the rustle of Vaughn turning over in his sleep ( _please_ let it be in his sleep) over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He can feel himself flushing, and the comforter feels too warm over him, suddenly. He lies there, with his arm cramping up under him and his hand on his dick and his face crushed so hard into the pillow that he can’t breathe properly and - not for the first time - he really sincerely regrets ever having agreed to room with Vaughn in the first place. He’s pretty sure he hears Vaughn shuffling again, but he’s overheated and frustrated and really _really_ horny and he thinks, fuck it, Vaughn’s a pretty heavy sleeper, he’s probably just moving about in his sleep. Probably. So he picks up where he left off, and his mind provides a helpful slideshow of ‘stuff Vaughn does which probably isn’t meant to be hot but totally is’, like biting his lip when he’s focusing on a math problem, and pulling on a slightly damp shirt because he’s too lazy to leave stuff in the dryer long enough, and, y’know, _existing_ – at which point several things happen in very quick succession.

 

Firstly, Vaughn turns over again and makes a little whimper which sounds a lot like-

 

And Rhys thinks something along the lines of ‘shit shit shit shit shit _shit_ ’, because it kinda sounds like Vaughn’s- that he’s-

 

And then Vaughn yelps something which sounds a lot like – ok, no, which _definitely_ _is_ – “Rhys!”, at a volume which is just beyond the threshold for plausible deniability or presumed mishearing and. Wow.

 

And then Rhys’s brain goes offline very briefly, because _holy fucking shit_ , and before he knows it he’s managed to blurt out Vaughn’s name at a volume which is not only totally beyond any kind of level that might be waved away as a mishearing but is also possibly loud enough to damage somebody’s fucking ears, honestly.

 

And then.

 

And _then_ …

 

And then there is a very long, very awkward silence. Well, it's not exactly a silence – they're both breathing way too loud for that, and Rhys can still hear his heart thundering in his ears as his face flushes deep, dark red. _Awkward_ , though – yeah, it's definitely awkward.

It's Vaughn who breaks the silence, eventually. “I didn't... I didn't know you were. Uh. Here. Oh god. I mean I woke up and I was kind of... and... and I thought you were still at Yvette's place. Um.”

“Yeah, I mean I... yeah. Same.”

“Right.”

Rhys coughs nervously. “I mean not- I didn't think you were at Yvette's. I mean, obviously.”

“Yup.”

“Because, I mean, I was just there, and you weren't so... so that would be- that would be dumb.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“I just- I thought you were asleep.”

“Right.”

“So, uh...”

“Yeah,” says Vaughn, sounding slightly strangled, “Well, that's... that explains that, then.”

“I'm... Yeah. Yeah, I am... I'm so glad we, uh, cleared that up, bro.”

And at that – at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation as much as anything - they both have to laugh, despite themselves, and it's brief and quiet but somehow it clears the air a little, even if it doesn't exactly make anything less _tense_. Rhys takes advantage of the momentary outbreak of giggles to reach for the tissue box by his bed and, uh… clean up, slightly.

 

And then there's another silence, and both of them are still breathing too hard, and Rhys' heart is still thumping away in his chest, and he is definitely still blushing like crazy but somehow it's not exactly awkward any more. Or it is, kind of, but there's something else there too, a kind of... potential, maybe. And saying the atmosphere is electric might be a bit two-dollar romance novel, but screw it, it's true  - and maybe Rhys kind of _likes_ the idea of getting a bit two-dollar romance novel with Vaughn.

 

“So,” says Vaughn, after a moment.

“Soooooooo,” says Rhys.

“Well, uh... that. Happened.”

“Yup, it... yeah.”

“Which is-”

“I mean. Yup. Wow.”

“And- right, just to clarify,” says Vaughn, sounding so ridiculously prim and analytical that Rhys almost starts laughing again, “We both, uh, said... we both... well, more like shouted, I guess which... um. I mean, that was- you were- oh crap,” Vaughn makes a series of vague wheezing noises, “Where the fuck did I put my inhaler...” he scrabbles around for a moment, grabs his inhaler, takes a puff and clears his throat very carefully. “I mean... you... said my name. Right?”

“No, I was talking about this other Vaughn who-”

“Rhys!” scoffs Vaughn – it's the kind of tone of voice that would be rolling it's eyes if it had them. But after a moment he adds, “Wait, seriously?” and he just sounds so unsure and despondent that Rhys almost feels bad for having made the damn joke.

“No! No, oh my god. I don't even _know_ any other Vaughns, bro.”

“Oh. Right. Well... good.”

Rhys just grins.

Vaughn clears his throat. “So, uh...”

“Yeah?”

“In light of that, and in the least weird way possible-”

“Mmm?”

“Do you, uh... I mean, do you want to-”

“Yes,” says Rhys.

“C'mon dude, I hadn't even finished the question.”

“I kind of figured I'd be down with anything you were about to suggest.”

“Oh- you, uh... oh. Right. Wow.” Vaughn stammers over his words for perhaps half a second - and then his natural air of vague pedantic snarkiness returns, and he says, “Well, Rhys, if I asked you to run in front of a car, would you do it?”

Rhys rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever bro.”

“I'm just _saying-_ ”

Rhys sighs. “Are you gonna come over here or what?”

A moment's silence, and then - “... is that an offer?”

“I... yes?”

“ _Oh_ ,” says Vaughn, incredibly soft and practically fucking reverential, which is doing things to Rhys' heart and would totally absolutely be doing things to other parts of him too only... yeah, no he's gonna need a nap first.

So he sighs, and shakes his head a little, and says, “I mean if I'm totally honest it's probably mostly an offer of cuddles and me falling asleep but...”

“Hey, well, that sounds good too bro, we don't have to- I mean this is all kind of-”

“Also, I'm probably going to steal all the blankets.”

“... great.”

“And by that I mean I'm _definitely_ gonna steal all the blankets.”

 

“You're selling it, bro, you're really selling it,” grumbles Vaughn, sliding out of his bed and padding across the floor toward Rhys.

Rhys shuffles aside to make room as Vaughn slides under the covers. “What? I could totally stay awake for another, like,” he yawns. “Like, half an hour. Maybe.” He yawns again.

“Why do I get the feeling that that's a lie?” asks Vaughn.

“Probably because it is. It's a horrible horrible lie and I'm gonna be asleep in the next five minutes for sure.”

“Dumbass,” says Vaughn - but his tone is immeasurably fond in a way that does ridiculous things to Rhys' stomach.

“Look, I'm a simple guy. It's warm, you are pretty much literally a super soft pillow, and I just came really hard-”

“-you're welcome-” says Vaughn.

“- yeah, alright, sure, shout-out to you for being the world's most frustratingly attractive room-mate ever- the point is. The point. Shit, where was this going. Uh...”

“You were explaining how you've lured me over to your bed on false pretences so that you can pass out on me.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's... pretty accurate. Sorry man. But hey, I have other things going for me.”

“Like?”

Rhys shrugs, cozying up to Vaughn with a shit-eating grin. “I can stick my cold feet on your legs.”

“Don't. You. Dare.”

“That not do it for you? Ok, uh, other attractive things about me... I drool in my sleep.”

“Gross, dude.”

“Like, a lot.”

“Oh my god. Remind me why I'm here?”

Rhys is about to say something flippant – and undoubtedly _super_ hilarious – but he makes the mistake of tilting his head to look Vaughn in the eye and... well, Rhys is a sucker. Rhys is a sucker and Vaughn is all soft curves and eyelashes this close up, and maybe Rhys was going to say something super funny and witty and cutting but instead his stomach is doing the weird fluttery thing it does whever Vaughn - well, whenever Vaughn exists, honestly – and so he just smiles, and says, “I don't know. I'm... I'm really glad you are, though.” It sounds even sappier out loud than it did in his head, which is impressive, frankly. And... kinda embarrassing.

Vaughn laughs, soft and gentle and maybe a little nervous, too, and says, “Hey, me too bro. Me too.”

 

Rhys doesn't quite trust himself not to say something stupid, so he buries his face in the soft curve of Vaughn's neck with a contented little sigh.

After a moment, Vaughn laughs softly. “Oh man.”

“Hmm?” says Rhys, lazily running a hand along Vaughn's side.

“This is- uh. This is nice. And actually a lot less awkward than it could be, all things considered.”

“Mmm,” mumbles Rhys, mouthing along Vaughn's jawline in a manner which would be much more insistent if he wasn't actually kind of ridiculously tired. He pauses as he reaches the crook of Vaughn's jaw, just under his ear. “We should do this more often.”

“The cuddling, or the- uh, the thing where we- well, the... the...”

“Sex?”

Vaughn goes an interesting shade of pink. “Ok, well, technically it wasn't... I mean, technically that was... that was just jerking off. At the same time. In the same room. While thinking of each other. But-”

“Ok, that's true, but next time we can totally-”

“I mean _technically_ we haven't even got to first base yet. Which is kind of weird, actually.”

“Yeah, well, I mean it sounds kinda dumb when you put it like that...”

“I guess. I mean, it's very _us_.”

Rhys smiles. “Us?”

“Oh, no, I-” mutters Vaughn, and Rhys can feel him tensing up a little, pulling away with limited success given that the standard-issue single beds the university provides are horrible narrow, “I mean, I didn't mean it in a, like, 'oh, now we're totally a thing forever and ever' way because that would be kinda premature and, I-”

“Vaughn,” says Rhys, tugging him closer.

“I mean not that I don't want us to, uh, I mean – I mean the point is that I'm not making assumptions, right, because we could totally just be doing this in a totally casual-”

“Vaughn-”

“- and I mean maybe retrospectively that was a bad word choice and I'm making it weird and I-”

“Vaughn!”

Vaughn blinks. “Oh, sorry, did you say something? I was- I was just- argh- you know when-”

“Vaughn, dude, calm down.”

“I, uh... right. Yeah. Sorry.”

Rhys fumbles for a moment in the dark before finding Vaughn's hand and squeezing it. “It's fine, seriously. 'Us' sounds nice, bro.”

“It- oh, ha, wow. Ok. I mean. Yeah. It does.”

 

“You know what else sounds nice,” says Rhys, eyes drifting closed, “Sleep. Just a nice, a nice little nap and then...” he frowns, pausing as he runs a hand absent-mindedly along Vaughn's thigh. “Are you naked, dude?”

Vaughn scoffs, “Like I would sleep with clothes on.”

“Oh my god,” whimpers Rhys, because that is frankly _unfair_.

“What? I just don't like... I mean don't you feel all overheated and restricted in pyjamas?”

Rhys groans. “Well I do _now_.”

Vaughn chuckles. “Go to sleep.”

“I'm- I'm having a nap, ok. Like a five minute nap.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yeah I'm gonna... five minutes Vaughn, I swear, and...”

“You're literally slurring your words, go to sleep.”

“Like, I'm serious, forget first base we are totally gonna get to like... fifth base...”

“There are only four bases, Rhys.”

“That's what you think.”

“No, it's- it's from baseball, bro, there are literally only four.”

“Well, there are five now.”

Vaugh sighs. “That's not how it works, bro.”

“Trust me, dude, I know...” Rhys yawns again, “I know... all about sports...”

“Have you ever in your life actually played a sport? Any sport.”

“I kicked a football once?”

“You didn't. I was there. You missed it and kicked the floor.”

“Mmph,” says Rhys, who probably did mean to formulate an actual answer, but... well, it kinda feels too much like effort, and Vaughn is super warm and cuddly and he is so, so tired. So tired.

“Wasn't that the time you broke you foot, actually?” says Vaughn.

 

Rhys, purely because he does not want to dignify that with a response – and not at all because he's all of thirty seconds from nodding off – says nothing. And roughly twenty nine and a half seconds later, by total and complete coincidence, he's fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Rhys wakes up late, blinking blearily over at the clock with the vague feeling that he’s missing something… a lecture? No, he doesn’t have any today, he’s pretty sure- oh, wait. _Wait._

 

Vaughn.

 

Vaughn is… not in the bed any more. Or in the other bed. Or – Rhys scrambles out from under the covers and peers round the corner – anywhere in the room, by the looks of things. He’s right on the verge of panicking when he notices a note propped helpfully on top of the towering pile of dirty laundry that they’ve both been avoiding for the last semester. The note has a little smiley face with dorky glasses drawn on the outside, so presumably Vaughn hasn’t freaked out and decided to escape into the night and never speak to Rhys again, which is… good. Ok. Awesome.

 

Rhys picks up the note, unfolds it, and reads;

 

_Hey, Rhys,_

_Hope you slept well. I haven't ditched out on you, I promise, but I just remembered I have a 9am lecture which I really can't miss, so... well, I guess that means that technically I have ditched out on you, but only temporarily. I'm still, you know, up for ~~round two~~_

_~~round one, technically~~ _

_~~round 1.5??~~ _

~~_sex_ ~~

_Look, point is we can pick up where we left off when I get back. I mean, if you want to? Oh god this is getting rambly and I've gotta dash because I'm about to make myself late but you're great and ~~you look really cute asleep even if you drool way too much~~ I'll be back at 11ish. See you soon._

_love_

_V_

_xxxx_

_p.s. I'm stopping by the shops on the way back, text me if you need anything_

Rhys sits back on his bed for a minute, just grinning quietly to himself. Then he scans the note again, picks up his phone, taps Vaughn's contact and types out a message;

 

**lube.**

 

He considers this for a moment, decides it's not quite as ridiculously crude and stupid as he was aiming for, backspaces, types out

 

**LUBE ;)**

 

… and hits send, snickering quietly to himself.

 

 

After a moment he picks his phone up again, with a growing realisation that wow, shit, that was a semi-serious text and Vaughn is totally gonna come back and they’re gonna- and this is- and-

 

He takes a deep steadying breath, makes a strangled screaming noise, and punches in Yvette’s number.

“Yvette!” he says, garbling his words out before she even has a chance to say hi, “Ok, right, listen, you’re not gonna believe what just-”

She clicks her tongue. “Is this about Vaughn?”

“I- wait, what? How can you tell? I swear the one time I think I’ve got something to say that you can’t possibly have heard about already and-”

Yvette laughs. “I can practically _hear_ you grinning. Of course it’s about Vaughn.”

“Oh. Wow. Really?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Huh. Well, uh yeah, it is actually about-”

“Also, he totally just texted me and told me _everything_.”

“Yvette?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re a-”

 

But whatever Yvette is, she never gets to hear it, because at that point there’s the familiar sound of Vaughn’s key in the door, and Rhys garbles out a quick “Gottagobye!” into the phone as Vaughn steps into the room, bag of groceries in hand. He vaguely hears Yvette screeching something about remembering to use protection before he manages to hit the red button and the call clicks off.

 

Vaughn, standing in the doorway, catches Rhys’s eye, and goes very, very pink. “Uh. Hey bro.”

Rhys tries to act natural, and fails, spectacularly. “Uh. Bro. Hey. Hi. Heyyy…”

Vaughn clears his throat, carefully adjusting his glasses. “Um. So.”

“Sooo…”

“I need to put the milk away,” says Vaughn, who is failing to act natural almost as spectacularly as Rhys.

“Right. I mean, yeah. Gotta keep that dairy refrigerated.”

“Right. Yeah. Food poisoning sucks.”

“It does. Remember that time I threw up all over-”

“I’d rather not.”

There’s a slightly tense silence as Vaughn goes to put the milk in the fridge, and Rhys eventually just blurts out, “So about the whole thing with last night and that note and-”

“Uh, right. Yeah. I mean, do you wanna…?” says Vaughn. “I mean. You know.”

“Well, that. Uh. That would be. Y’know. Pretty cool.”

Vaughn grins, looking genuinely delighted. “Sweet. And, like, c’mon dude, it’s not just gonna be ‘pretty cool’.”

“No?”

He adjusts his glasses with the air of a man who really means business. “No,” he says, with a little smirk that makes Rhys’s stomach do flips, “It’s gonna be _awesome_.”

 

And it is.

 


End file.
